


Fifty Dogs

by thelonebamf



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Gen, One Shot, Pre-Relationship, it's early days yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 01:39:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7020235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelonebamf/pseuds/thelonebamf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hal goes to Alaska to find Snake and invite him to join Philanthropy. It turns out he has quite a bit to learn about the man. Just a fun one, folks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fifty Dogs

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the now legendary "Snake shares the names of his fifty dogs" video compliments of justlet_melive and hunkprofessor over on tumblr. Thanks for making me laugh so hard I almost died.

_David. David. He told you his name so get it right. Names have meaning. Names are_ **_important._ **

 

Hal stood on the icy porch, staring at the door inches in front of him. He gripped the straps of his duffel bag, hands sweaty despite the cold. He’d already knocked twice and was reaching up for a third when the door suddenly swung open, a familiar if weary face on the other side.

 

“S-Snake!” He nearly shouted. “Hi. I um. You probably didn’t expect to see me all the way up here, right? Heh heh.” Hal smiled nervously, wondering if the man was more likely to invite him in or simply slam the door in his face. He clearly hadn’t come at a good time, but something about Snake gave him the impression that it was never a good time.

 

“Otacon,” came the gruff reply.

 

“Yeah. It’s um. Me.”

 

Hal felt a little stupid standing there but Snake continued to stand there silently, staring at him. It was hardly surprising. When a ghost from the past showed up on your doorstep months after the catastrophe both of you had spent months trying to forget, the least they could do was come with some answers.

 

“I… probably should have called ahead. I mean I did but… is your phone broken? I never got an answer so I thought I might as well just go ahead and come on out here. Maybe that was a bad idea, though. You probably think I’m crazy.”

 

“Otacon.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“You want a drink?”

 

Thirty minutes later the two of them were seated on the garish plaid sofa that was pushed up against longest wall in the main room of the cabin. Snake seemed content with the light coming in from the windows, though it failed to reach the furthest corners of the room.

 

Hal opened his second drink and took a sip from the can as he looked around, trying to glean what information he could from his surroundings about the “legendary” Solid Snake. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, training equipment or maybe stockpiles of weaponry or even stacks of MRE’s from wherever the nearest Army Surplus store was located. Probably still hundreds of miles away from the isolated plot of ice where Snake had decided to build his home.

 

What he had certainly not expected were the stacks of outdated video cassettes, dogeared novels and impressive collection of cans and bottles on the ground that were currently making it difficult to keep track of his own drink.

 

The silence continued, both of them finding drinking easier than talking. Hal wondered if they would just continue this way for the rest of the night, or however long it took for him to pass out. It had been a lengthy trip and he hadn’t actually confirmed that he’d be able to stay the night. In any case, he had to make sure he explained the reason for his visit while the two of them were still reasonably sober.

 

Another hour maybe.

 

Or two.

 

At some point one of the Star Wars movies found its way into the VCR. Neither of them were really watching it, but pretending made the silence a little less awkward.

 

“So, Snake. The reason I came was-”

 

“You wanna meet the dogs?”

 

Hal blinked a few times, face scrunched up in concentration as he tried to follow the thread of the conversation. Finding it impossible he nodded.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I wanna meet the dogs.”

\--

 

“Baldo. Vader. That’s my boy. Pliskin. Master.”

 

Hal shuffled along behind Snake, sneakers slipping in the ice as the dogs ran out to meet them. They were all clearly well trained, but eager to see their owner coming out to greet them, taking their cues from him in regard to the stranger in their midst.

 

“What are you doing over there, Thor? That’s my thirteenth dog, Thirteen.”

 

Hal snorted. “Not ‘Lucky’?”

 

“Oh that… that would have been good. Could have used you around when I was… oh here’s Jupiter. Hey. Hey boy.”

 

Hal wondered if “Bruce” was named after Wayne or Banner. The notion that he’d been named after an old friend easily dismissed after being introduced to Hoth, Starbuck, and Bowie. He wasn’t sure if he was more surprised that Snake had a penchant for naming his pets after pop culture icons, or that they were references he actually understood.

 

“Where’s Beans? Hey Beans! And Beer.”

And some of them had names even more easy to understand.

 

“There’s Data, just thinking about stuff. Marty. Marty’s a good dog.”

 

At this point the two of them were flat out laughing, the dog’s energy proving infectious and Hal being surprised each time Snake called out to one of them. Snake seemed just as amused, the list of names proving ridiculous when recited in one go. Hal wondered if he’d ever had the chance before.

 

“Guyver.”

 

“Like the anime?” Hal perked up.

 

“No like… MacGyver. The show with the guy. Always blowing things up with a paperclip and a wad of gum.”

 

“Oh. Oh yeah. Of course.”

 

“They made an anime out of that?”

 

Hal laughed. “No. No it was just… oh you know. Robots and stuff.”

 

“Right. Oh. Bud. Chum. Steel. Uh… Beer!”

 

“What?” Hal couldn’t contain himself and nearly fell on the ice but Snake reached out at the last second to catch him.

 

“Easy there. Okay and uh, who is left. Cylon. Starbuck. Gort.”

 

“Oh. Oh my god Snake.” Hal struggled to regain his footing, pulling himself up slowly. “You… you’re a huge nerd! When were you going to tell me?”

 

“Battlestar is a classic.” Snake struggled to keep a stern look on his face but the dogs’ howling and Hal’s constant snickering coupled with the warm buzz of alcohol in his system was making it difficult.

 

“Yeah but ‘Gort’?”

 

Gort huffed and looked up at the sound of his name.

 

“It’s okay boy, he didn’t mean it.” He reached out to give the dog a reassuring scratch behind the ears. “Okay, uh, who… who is left. We got… Ernie. Bert.”

 

“Grover?” Hal guessed.

 

“What? No. This is Julia. Uh. Lazer. Saxophone.”

 

“Snake. Snake. Oh my god. Snake. _Do you play the saxophone?_ ”

 

“I don’t have to answer that.”

 

\--

 

Hal was surprised again a few weeks later as he stood in the now empty cabin. The two of them had cleaned it out, packed up the scant pieces of furniture and dragged anything salvageable to the charity shop in town. He was surprised he’d finally worked up the nerve to talk to Snake, surprised at how quickly he’d agreed to come with him.

 

And now, if he was honest he was surprised at how reluctant he was to go.

 

It hadn’t been any kind of permanent home for him, perhaps not for Snake either. But during the time he was here things were so much simpler than they were in the “real world”. The day would soon after sunrise as the dogs began baying for their breakfast. It had taken Hal a while to get the hang of lugging the bags of food around but he soon had a handle on it.

 

He’d even learned the huskies’ names, every one. Saying goodbye to them now was like saying goodbye to a group of friends, or at least as close as Hal had ever come. Most of them had been picked up by some local mushers and he was gratified to see that for the most part they wanted multiple dogs.

 

 _It’s dangerous to go alone._ He mused.

 

The last three were currently making themselves at home in the back of Snake’s pickup truck, curling up against the few supplies he’d saw fit to bring along.

 

“Having second thoughts?”

 

Hal looked up to see Snake leaning against the doorframe, lighting a cigarette. Not the worst of vices, but one that was going to take some getting used to.

 

“No, of course not. We’ve got to… I mean...we have work to do.”

 

“Mm.”

 

It was a while before either of them spoke again, rumble of the truck’s aging engine and faltering radio signal making it feel more like they were embarking on a simple road trip rather than leaving to start an organization whose activities some might describe as “terrorism”. It was probably better not to linger on the thought just yet.

 

“So. The dogs.”

 

“They’re fine back there, it’s not a long drive,” Snake said, eyes focused on the road.

 

Hal nodded but checked over his shoulder anyway. “Yeah I was just wondering… I mean, fifty dogs? How’d you come by so many?”

 

“Bought some of them. Adopted others. Bartered for a few.”

 

“Bartered? Is that common?”

 

“Common enough. Plenty of people around who have one thing and need another. You just have to find someone who has what you need and ideally you both end up feeling that you’re better off. Or even at least.” He tapped the wheel lightly as they approached the town, slowing down to peer out the window.

 

“I imagine you did. Can’t imagine getting anything better than a dog out of a trade. They’re just so… good. I used to think that if you could measure goodness the same way you did weight or voltage they ought to use the ‘dog’ as the unit.”

 

Snake didn’t answer, but shot him an unreadable look.

 

“I mean it’d be like… a logarithmic scale or something. I had it all worked out just for kicks. It’s a lot more difficult to reach one “dog” of goodness than it is to make the jump from one to two.”

 

Snake snorted. “I can’t believe _you_ called _me_ a nerd.”

 

Hal’s face colored slightly, but he thought he could probably play it off as nothing more than warmth from the truck’s heater. He needn’t have worried. Snake was soon pinpointing the house of the dog’s new owners and slowly pulling into the drive.

 

They sat in the quiet as the engine died down, Snake’s fingers still wrapped around the wheel.

 

“Snake? Everything okay?”

 

He nodded and briskly pushed the door to the cab open and stepped out, boots crunching softly on the snow.

 

“C’mon boys. Let’s go.”

 

\--

It was several hours before they made it to Anchor Point where they made a quick stop to refuel the truck and themselves before starting out on the highway. The radio was proving more trouble than it was worth but Hal had kept one of the books he’d found in the cabin and Snake didn’t seem to mind the quiet.

 

At least not at first.

 

“So. Mr. Scientist.”

 

“Doctor.”

 

“Oh. That’s right. _Doctor_ Scientist.” Snake huffed lightly. “Theoretical question for you.”

 

“Yeah?” Hal folded the corner of his page over and tucked the book beneath his seat.

 

“Is it possible for a single dog to contain more than ‘one dog’ of good?”

 

“Oh that again?” Hal stroked his chin. “I think so. If it’s an exceptional dog. Like… Lassie.”

 

“Not a real dog,” Snake interrupted.

 

Hal scoffed. “I thought this was a theoretical question. Okay then, Balto. At least two dogs worth of good.”

 

Snake gnawed lightly at his bottom lip, clearly considering something. “Balto was half wolf. That seems to imply an inverse correlation between the amount of dog and the dogs worth of goodness. That can’t be right.”

 

“Oh my god. Nerd!” Hal slapped his hand against his forehead. “A single case is no kind of sample group. Besides, non-dog entities can contain goodness as well. Wolves. Cats.”

 

“People?”

 

“Well, sure people. I mean it gets a little more complicated when you apply morality and societal norms to the equation but sure, people exhibit goodness too. Oh god I can’t believe we’re still talking about this.” He shook his head. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather talk about something more interesting? Movies? Sports?”

 

“Dogs were my sport. Mushing.”

 

“Oh. Right.” The silence began to grow between them again.

 

“So? I have to know. Based on your research.” Snake was tapping the wheel again but managed to shoot Hal a brief sideways grin. “How many dogs?”

 

“How many…?” It took a moment for Hal to figure out what Snake was even asking, let alone come up with an answer. “Oh two. Three maybe. Several dogs worth.”

 

Snake rolled his eyes but Hal thought he could detect the hint of a smile lingering on his face.

 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you to tell me how you think I measure up,” he assured him.

 

“Shouldn’t have to.”

 

Hal wasn’t sure exactly what to make of that.

 

“Like I said. When you make a trade you just have to make sure you’re gettin’ something equal in return. Or better if you can manage.”

 

The cabin suddenly felt very warm and Hal found himself sliding down into his seat. He felt around beneath him for the book and buried his face in it, unwilling or perhaps unable to meet Snake’s eyes after that. When he felt himself being slowly lulled to sleep by the rocking of the truck, he welcomed it.

 

 _“David…”_ he mumbled to himself as the events from three weeks ago started replaying in his mind. _“He told you… so get it right...it’s David…”_

 

Dave looked over at the sound of his name and wasn’t surprised to see Hal had drifted off. It was for the best. His time at the wheel would come soon enough.

 

He plucked a cigarette from the box resting in his shirt pocket and slipped it between his lips, still smirking to himself.

 

“As good as fifty dogs.”


End file.
